


Changes

by ionlyjoinedforfanfic



Category: Little Accidents (2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27087745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionlyjoinedforfanfic/pseuds/ionlyjoinedforfanfic
Summary: You return home after a long absence and reflect on the changes in Amos and the town.
Relationships: Amos Jenkins/Reader, Amos Jenkins/You





	Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Fic was inspired by a conversation Amos had with Nell hinting at what he was like before the accident.  
> Fic set at local church, in keeping with Canon.

You kept shifting on the wooden pew, you hadn’t attended any type of service since you left town and the guilt of your absence mixed with a feeling of not belonging only amplified your discomfort. But you were home and it was Sunday and hell would freeze over before your mother let you stay home and eat cereal in your pjs. It was what you did in a small town, what would people say if you didn’t go. It was as much about being discourteous as it was about being morally ambiguous. So, you put on something appropriate, though your mom still insisted that you wore a sweater to cover up, and bundled you off.

The church hadn’t changed, and you were instantly transplanted to your teenage self – daydreaming of some other place or time. The town, like the church, didn’t appear to change, though of course it had. It had been shaken to its very core. Its black rock heart broken. You scanned the hall and saw familiar faces in the congregation, all a little greyer, a little plumper, worn. Then you saw Amos, alone. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t really been searching for him. You’d grown up together, close in age and neighbours. Your mother had told you what had happened on the day the town was shattered, explained he was the only survivor, explained what came after.

Amos’ stooped his shoulders making him appear smaller than his 6 feet, he was definitely thinner than you remembered. His dirty blond hair long enough to be tucked behind his ears, he wore blond scruff on his cheeks and a crinkled plaid shirt. He looked lost, in the sermon or his own thoughts you couldn’t tell, the weight of the world pressing down on him.

The service finished and you mingled at the potluck. Your mom at your arm filling you in on what everyone had been up to and so on, though the accident was never mentioned – a dark, unspoken chasm that everyone was intent on avoiding.

“Ah Amos,” you heard her call him over, and you frantically try to swallow the mouthful of potato salad you were eating. “Don’t stare.” she whispered, not so subtly in your ear, as Amos limped over. “We were just catching up with everyone.” she beamed as way of explanation.

He offered a small smile, but his eyes lowered, his hands in his pockets, and with your mouth still full all you can do was smile back. Thankfully, your mother moved on to her next victim leaving you alone.

“You back long?” he asked.

You cover your mouth to mumble a response, “A while, not decided it, depends y’know.”

You’d come back to help with your ailing father, he’d was sick and it was becoming more difficult for your mom to bear the brunt on her own. No one knew if or when he’d get better. You knew Amos would understand, your Dad’s health wasn’t a secret. It was difficult to keep secrets in a small town, people noticed when he visited the doctor’s office more often, when he stopped going the bar with his buddies, when he stopped going to church. Thinking about your own father it made your heart swell with sympathy, you offered your condolences to Amos, “I heard about your Dad, I’m sorry.”

He gave a little nod and then awkward silence fell between you. It wasn’t the physical changes that were clear now, but his demeanour. Before you had left, he’d been so cocksure of himself. Girls would flock to Amos and he’d show them a good time. The confidence of a young man without a care in the world. You remembered how you, like the rest, were captivated by him and yearned for him to notice you with a wink, or smile. You remembered the time he’d given you a lift home. A bunch of you had gone into the woods away from the prying eyes of responsible adults. It grew late and living only a few doors down he offered to drive you back. Your daddies had been friends since boys and like most men in the town had belonged to the fraternity of miners – he’d never be forgiven if he didn’t see you back safely. He stopped his truck halfway home, parked on a quiet lane. You remembered stolen kisses and his hands exploring your curves – it was all PG-13 but you blushed at the thought.

“You ok?” he noticed you daydreaming, flush in your cheeks

“Oh yeah, yeah just thinking about when we were younger.”

“Oh yeah,” he offered a small smile, almost smirk, and for a moment you thought that maybe he too was thinking about your time alone together, “long time ago.” A sombre note in the air.

Your mother returned with Mrs Lassiter and her twin boys and Amos took it as his cue to leave.

“See you around.”

He lifted the flat of his palm to wave and walked away.


End file.
